


Read Only

by Cameron_McKell



Series: Upon Further Review [33]
Category: Tron (1982), Tron (Movies), Tron - All Media Types, Tron: Legacy (2010), Tron: The Next Day (2011)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Non-Human Humanoid Society, Non-Human Humanoids, Nostalgia, Past Relationship(s), Tron Fanworks Month, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-01
Updated: 2014-04-01
Packaged: 2018-01-17 20:34:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1401595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cameron_McKell/pseuds/Cameron_McKell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to "Defragmentation". User meets program, though death and thirty years separate them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Read Only

**Author's Note:**

> For Tron Fanworks Month on Tumblr Week 2 - Fluff.

Maybe a quarter of a millicycle after they ran out into the rain to play like children, Roy flopped bonelessly into a chair. His clothes were heavily weighted down with water and sticking to his skin, but not cold; he'd been advised from the beginning not to invest too heavily in the idea that anything in this world was the same as in his, despite – or perhaps because of – the occasional visual similarity. After all, Kevin Flynn – and his somewhat ill-conceived attempt at a digital clone – had had a direct hand in what everything looked like, so it was easy to find User aesthetics in things.

 

Tron stood next to his chair, suit slick and new-looking, hair plastered to his face, circuits – and were there more of them than usual? – radiating heat like a gentle furnace. His eyes scanned over their surroundings for a while until he made a vaguely positive noise, then relaxed enough to pant in air to help him cool down.

 

Smiling at the implied show of trust, Roy tipped his head back, then ran a hand through his mostly-dry hair. “Thanks, Tron.”

 

Tron looked over at him curiously. “Why?”

 

“For sharing some of your history with me,” he replied quietly, looking back out to where it was still raining. “I know a lot of it wasn't very... pleasant.” Grimacing at that _gross_ understatement, Roy watched the rain and tried very hard not to think about the – probably censored – history of the Grid he'd been told.

 

Of all things, Tron chuckled quietly.

 

“I have many pleasant memories,” he clarified at the User's confusion. “All but three categories of which included Ram until his deresolution.”

 

Peripherally curious what the other 'three categories' were, Roy focused in on the other half of the program's sentence. Not for the first time, he felt a vague sort of jealousy for the particular sort of closeness between Tron and Alan; he could write new programs – and often did – but it just wasn't quite the same. “I wish I could have known him.”

 

Tron got a strange, distracted look on his face for a long moment, before visibly steeling himself. “Okay.”

 

Roy didn't follow. “Huh?”

 

Tron dropped into a crouch stiffly, then turned to present his back – and disk dock – to Roy. “You can view my memory files of him.”

 

Roy held very, very still as he processed the words; Tron was extremely skittish about anyone handling his disks outside of a combat situation, and with good reason. To date, the only people he'd let even touch it were Alan and occasionally Sam. He'd shied away when  _Lora_ put her hand too close to it once, and now he was offering to let Roy  _view his memory files_ ? “That's okay, Tron; it's fine. I don't want to make you uncomfortable –”

 

“Please,” Tron interrupted with a noticeable purr to his tone, then systematically relaxed the tension from his frame. “I'm the only program left with files with Ram in them. You deserve to know him, and he deserves to be known by you.”

 

How was he supposed to argue against that?

 

“Okay,” Roy managed around the sudden tightness in his throat, and marveled at the sort of loyalty that persisted over a thousand years. “If you're sure.”

 

Tron nodded slightly, then tucked his head down against his chest.

 

Not wanting to seem too intent on handling the disks by asking why Tron didn't simply remove them and hand them to him, instead of accessing them while still docked, he touched Tron's shoulder reassuringly. “I'm not going to change anything, Tron. This is all strictly read-only, and you can stop it any time. Okay?”

 

He waited until Tron made an affirmative noise, then brought up the disk display.

 

The answer to the 'why leave the disk docked' question became immediately apparent when Tron used the more immediate connection to direct him to his earliest relevant memory files, and Roy's perception of his own body melted into the background.

 

He watched cycles flash by through Tron's eyes, almost too fast for his brain to process, of a world distinctly more alien and more beautiful than he had imagined from the context provided by Kevin's old video game. There was color and light everywhere, and a sort of pressure, like sound but with no noise, that Roy somehow knew were senses and sensations his brain wasn't built to interpret.

 

And in every section of memory, was a particular program.

 

His skin was a little paler, and hair a little darker for having never seen sunlight, but otherwise his was a face Roy had seen in the mirror countless times years ago. Through playful games and downtime, Roy watched Ram; he looked on as he attempted to flirt with an elaborately dressed program, instigating – and then losing – at a drinking competition with him (Tron) and sliding down to the floor like he was made of wet noodles. He got to listen in as Ram taught him (Tron) about their system, encouraged him (Tron) to go talk to the simulation program three tables over, then carefully manipulated their seating until they sat together at a game when that didn't work out.

 

Something like déjà vu overcame him during the memories of a distinctly at peace Ram, newly returned from an I/O Tower; the last memory of this was tainted with a bit of sorrow, though, because Ram had lost the soft gray half-tunic that he'd worn in each previous memory and Tron had only just acquired, and wore armor in its place. It didn't cover as much as the armor worn by programs on the Grid currently, and was bulky and a bit awkward in comparison, but looked decidedly sleek when compared with the standard level of program protection of the time. Now that he was complete, it came as no surprise that the next memory was a tearful but upbeat farewell as Ram left to go help the Users on another system.

 

There was a tense moment of nothingness as Tron considered continuing or ending it there, and Roy waited in rigid anticipation. He knew how the story ended, after all, and couldn't decide if he wanted to know firsthand or not, but ultimately it wasn't his decision. Tron had to review the memories with him, he was the one that had had to live through it, so it was his call whether Roy saw now, or later, or never.

 

The moment dragged on for a little while more, then he (Tron) was regaining consciousness – rebooting? – in an extremely claustrophobic cell to the audible relief of the occupant of the adjacent cell. Some of that memory was indistinct, but Ram's concerned expression was perfectly clear, pressed close to the force field he (Tron) knew was there, probably because of one of those indecipherable senses. For a long time after that, the memories were similar, long stretches of incarceration, broken up by the occasional cooperative game, one of them leaving or returning from a solo match, or quiet conversations to boost each others' spirits and pass the too-short downtime, and 'Do you really believe the Users are still out there?'

 

It was hard to listen to someone have a crisis of faith about you, and Roy couldn't help but hope that Tron never showed Alan this memory.

 

Interacting with Roy directly for the first time since this review began, Tron agreed.

 

The last few memories almost flew by – Flynn's appearance and Ram's keen suspicions, the confrontation in the lightcycle holding area, the escape and the deep trust demonstrated between the two programs by riding so close together as to be almost on top of each other – until the newly formed trio settled down for a moment of rest and freedom at an energy pool. The respite was a brief one because there was still the issue of the MCP to resolve, but it was nice to see his program – and all of them, really – laughing and happy like in the older memories.

 

Roy was oddly grateful that Tron hadn't seen what exactly happened to Ram in the end – what had nearly happened to Tron himself – and the User came back to himself with a gasp, Tron's shouted denial still echoing in his ears.

 

Tron stood back up, and turned to face Roy – conveniently pulling his disks out of reach – then shrugged minutely. “Now you know.”

 

Wiping the rain from his face even though it had been dry before they started the memory review, Roy nodded. “Yeah. Now I know.”

 

They both took a moment to recompose themselves, and Roy spent most of his thinking about all the friendly smiles, light-hearted mischief, and genuine desire to help people that had been the core of who his program –  _son_ , really – was.

 

He stood up slowly, clothes now mostly dry, and regarded Tron thoughtfully. He still seemed a bit out of sorts, so Roy forwent the hug he'd been planning, and squeezed his arms just below the elbow circuits, then quickly let go. “Thank you, Tron. Again.”

 

Tron smiled a little, but shook his head, “It was nothing.”

 

“Was not,” Roy countered in his best no-nonsense tone. “You gave me a real gift today, and I'm grateful.”

 

Tron almost looked as if he might try to argue the point, then gave in with a bemused huff.

 

“You're welcome, then.”

 

Roy nodded in approval, then looked out at the city again; the rain had finished, but everything was still glossy and damp, shining all the brighter from all the reflections. He thought about all the light and color he'd seen in those old, happy memories, and started toying around with some ideas to bring that lightness to the Grid.

 

Caught up in all the possibilities, he almost didn't notice Tron nudge him lightly. “The portal will be closing soon. We need to go.”

 

Roy nodded distractedly, and followed Tron down to the street.

 

He genuinely wanted to help these people, and he couldn't help but think that Ram would approve.


End file.
